Lake of Tears

by Mary Logue

  Sleep poured over him like enemy waves, swamping him in the dark.

  CHAPTER 14

  “Let’s go into the sheriff’s office,” Claire suggested as she tapped Amy on the shoulder.

  “You finally going to move in there?” Amy asked, getting up and following her down the hallway.

  “Not yet. Hopefully not ever. I’m counting on the sheriff coming back. Just feels too strange to take over his office, plus I like being out on the floor. But I want to talk about Tammy Lee Johansen—where we’re at, and figure out what to do next. You got all the information from Mr. Swenson?”

  As they settled into the sheriff’s office, Claire forced herself to go around the desk and sit down in his chair. The office chair was too big for her and not in good shape. It held the imprint of the sheriff’s large body. Probably just right for him. She, however, felt like Goldilocks.

  Claire perched on the edge of the big chair and said, “What more did you get from him? Seemed like a garrulous old guy.”

  “I doubt if it’s anything you haven’t heard, but I’ve been checking with more of the campers. So far he’s the only one who noticed the car that came that night. I’m thinking we should be searching Terry Whitman’s car.”

  “Yes, I’d like you to bring in Terry Whitman’s car and go over it thoroughly. And have a look at Andrew’s, too. Andrew’s regular vehicle is that brand new Jeep. Doubt it has a muffler problem, but still might be worth looking at.”

  “We know there’s going to be Tammy Lee’s fingerprints in Terry’s car.” Amy brought out a piece of paper from her file and handed it to Claire. “Also, we lucked out with her. She shoplifted something in tenth grade, so we’ve got her fingerprints on file. But who knows what else we might find in there.”

  “Do you want me to tell Andrew that we want to search his car, or are you up for it?” Claire asked.

  Amy wrinkled her nose. “I’d rather not. I’ve barely got seniority over him. It’d be better coming from you.”

  “Not a problem. I’ll catch him as soon as he gets in and ask him if we can go over the vehicle. Why don’t you give it a once over, and if you find anything that makes you think we should inspect it more carefully, we’ll call the lab.”

  “Sure.” Amy looked down at her notes, then looked up and said, “I just have to say this. I can’t believe Andrew had anything to do with Tammy’s death. I’m not saying he wouldn’t or couldn’t kill someone. I just don’t think he’d put her body in the boat. I think it’s too weird for him.”

  Claire didn’t say anything. Let Amy have her say.

  “He’s just not that kind of guy. Plus, Andrew doesn’t need to force himself on a woman. He’s cute and well behaved.”

  “So are many sociopaths,” Claire couldn’t help pointing out.

  “But he’s not like that.”

  “War does hard things to men.”

  Amy shook her head. “I guess. I just have a hard time believing Andrew would do something like that. It’s too creepy.”

  “Yeah, there is a large creep factor in it. Makes me wonder if we’re looking at someone who’s done this before.”

  “Like a serial killer?” Amy’s voice rose.

  “Maybe not killed before, but done something with fires. I think you’re right, putting her in the boat to be burned. Worth checking out. Ask around about Terry. He doesn’t have a record, but see if there’s ever been any trouble when he’s been around, any arson.” Claire let out a sigh. “At least I don’t need to check on Andrew. That stuff would have come out when we were hiring him.”

  “Why didn’t you go to Vietnam?” Meg asked Rich as they sat at the kitchen table, cracking black walnuts open and digging out the meat.

  There were hundreds of black walnut trees on their property, and every fall Meg and Rich would crack open enough of them to make a cake or two. The nuts were not easy to shell, and to get even a cup of the walnuts took a lot of work. Not to mention husking them and curing them and soaking them. But when Rich made his black walnut cake with buttercream icing, Meg thought it was all worth it.

  “Vietnam?” He lifted out a perfect nugget of a nut to show her. “I was a little bit too young. Plus I worked on a farm. We get special dispensation sometimes.”

  “Would you have gone if they had drafted you?”

  Rich slammed a hammer into a nut, and it shattered. “I don’t know. I doubt it. Don’t really believe in all that stuff.”

  “What stuff?”

  “Killing, fighting.”

  “So you don’t believe in war?”

  “Oh, I guess I’d say it might be a necessary evil, but not one I’d like to participate in. Also, sending all the young men off to fight when they don’t even know they could be killed, when they haven’t even lived, some of them haven’t had a drink, haven’t been laid.”

  “Rich.” Meg was surprised by how blunt he was being.

  “You asked me. If we drafted the old men, like my age, I doubt there’d be many wars. I for one wouldn’t go.”

  “Well, I think war is just plain evil.”

  He looked up at her, the hammer raised to strike another nut. “Good for you, Megster.”

  “Do you think Mom is right—not wanting me to see Andrew?”

  “Oh, you’d like me to get in the middle of that?” He slammed the hammer down and the nut broke in two perfect halves.

  “You’ve got a good aim,” Meg laughed. “I guess it’s probably been hard on you, not taking sides.”

  “Sometimes,” Rich said. “But mainly I’m glad it’s not my decision.”

  “What do you think about me seeing Andrew?”

  “To tell you the truth, I’d leave it up to you, but I have to say your mom doesn’t ask much of you—and this is her business. She knows more than me when it comes to the ways of the world. I’m just a lowly pheasant farmer.”

  “Which rhymes with peasant farmer, or pleasant farmer.”

  “You got it.”

  “Let me have the hammer. You’re having all the fun.”

  He handed the hammer to Meg. “You need to take out a little of that aggression, too, I guess.”

  “Yes, this is the last time Mom can tell me what to do.” To punctuate that statement, she slammed the hammer down on a walnut. Unfortunately, she hit it too hard and the whole thing flew into bits.

  “Somehow, I don’t think you’re listening to her,” Rich said, chipping away carefully at a nut.

  “Whatever gives you that idea?”

  “You seem happier than I think you would be if you really weren’t seeing Andrew.” He winked at her.

  Meg brought the hammer down with a little more care. “Pheasant farmer and soothsayer.”

  Andrew walked in right on time from his shift. Claire knew because she was waiting for him. She wondered how he would react to her request. He could demand a search warrant, but she doubted he would do that. Just wouldn’t be very smart.

  She walked up to him as he was coming around the counter. “How’s it going?”

  He looked at her and tried a half smile. “Not bad.”

  “Hey, Andrew, I’m sorry to say this, but we’re going to have to search your car. Do I have your permission?”

  He stood still and his gaze turned inward, thinking. Without much of a pause, he nodded. “I guess. It’s not here. I drove the squad car home last night. You want me to go and get it?”

  “No, I’ll send Amy out for it. You can drive her out there. Just stay away from the vehicle.”

  His eyes hardened. “I know how to handle this. Don’t worry.”

  He stalked off and went to get Amy.

  When Claire got back to her desk, the phone rang. She was glad to have something else to think about. She couldn’t help feeling bad about Andrew. No matter how much she didn’t want him seeing her daughter, he still seemed like a good guy to her.

  A shattered woman’s voice said, “This is Mrs. Johansen. Can I speak to that woman, Watkins whatever her name is?”

>   “Speaking,” Claire said. “How can I help you, Mrs. Johansen?”

  “Well, they delivered the bones, like you said they would. But it’s just bones.” The woman started crying.

  “I’m so sorry. This must be so hard.”

  “Yes, but you see, there’s the ring.”

  “What ring?”

  “Her engagement ring. She told me it was worth a thousand dollars, a real diamond and all. But I can’t find no ring in with the bones.”

  “I don’t think a ring was found.”

  “But it wouldn’t have melted. It must be there someplace.”

  “I was with the forensic bone guy, and he made a completely thorough search of the burn site.”

  “Well, a ring is heavier. Maybe it went deeper than he looked.”

  “That’s a possibility.”

  “Maybe I’ll go down and look for it.”

  “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’ll check into it and get back to you later today.”

  “That ring is mine,” the woman said fiercely.

  Claire wasn’t going to argue with her, but she wasn’t sure what the law was on that. It might actually belong to Terry Whitman; after all, he gave it to Tammy Lee as a promise of marriage.

  “We’ll find it,” Claire assured her, then asked, “How’re you doing with everything, Mrs. Johansen?”

  The woman broke into sobs, then when she quieted, she said, “My daughter’s dead and all I’ve got is a bag of bones and ash. I don’t know what to do. I just don’t know what to do.”

  CHAPTER 15

  “I’m just double-checking with you, Dr. Pinkers. Did you find a ring when you searched the burn site?” Claire stood by her desk, ready to hit the road if she got the answer she was afraid she would get from the forensic anthropologist.

  “I found a couple of nails, but no ring.” He sighed, then continued, “I would have told you if I had. I didn’t really have to dig down very far to extract the bones. They were all lying in order and I just carefully picked them up. Since they hadn’t been messed with and none of them were missing, I didn’t look any further.” He cleared his throat, then continued, “If you’re looking for a ring in that mess, I’d use a metal detector.”

  “I know we have one somewhere. That’s a good thought.”

  “You know,” the doctor drew the phrase out, “whoever did this might have taken off the ring before putting her there.”

  “Yes, I’ve thought of that too.”

  “Nasty business.”

  “No doubt. But I’m going to try to find it.”

  “There’s a lot of metal in those old pallets, so you’re going to find nails and staples galore.”

  As Claire drove down to Fort St. Antoine with the metal detector in the back seat, she felt like she was on a hopeless mission. She also knew she should have sent someone else to do this search, but she had to get out of the office. She wasn’t used to being under fluorescent lights all day long.

  The day was warm for early October, and she rolled a window down to feel the air. If they didn’t make a significant step forward on this case today, she was calling in the crime lab from Madison for help. She had been resisting because somehow she felt like the big guns would just trample what little evidence there was and not understand how people in this small county passed on information.

  Just like the way she had been fifteen years ago, coming down from Minneapolis and thinking she knew it all. Rich had gently showed her she didn’t. Her fellow deputies had not been quite so gentle. It had been painful, but it worked, and she had adjusted her skills to the ways of the country.

  When she drove into the park, she saw two trailers were still parked near the beach. Odd for trailers to be in the park so late in the year, but the weather was holding. The one closest to the burn site she guessed was Mr. Swenson, and she needed to find out who the other one was, although Amy had probably already talked to them.

  As she got out of the car, the wind picked up. The branches of the enormous cottonwoods creaked above her head and the wind whipped up whitecaps on the lake. But the air felt good to her, blowing some fatigue away.

  Claire walked over and stood next to the charred remnants of the boat. She could vaguely make out the outlines of the body that had been lifted from the ashes. Yes, Dr. Pinkers had been very careful in removing the bones. He had disturbed little else. It made sense that something metal, being heavier than bone, might drop down farther into the remains of the fire.

  She put on the metal detector headphones, turned on the machine, held out the search coil and swung it over the site. The detector crackled to life. She wondered if it really was going to be of much use. She was getting a lot of squeal. As Dr. Pinkers had predicted, the burn site was littered with metal, according to how much noise she was hearing from the machine.

  Claire decided she’d have to notch it down to disregard objects that have a phase shift comparable to a pop-can tab or a small nail. Once she made this adjustment, she swung it slowly over the site again, getting much less squeal out of it.

  In the middle of the site, she heard the pitch of the detector climb to a new height, almost like a fire siren. She swung the search coil over the area again and it squealed even louder. Time to take a look.

  Claire turned off the detector, set it to the side, and knelt down by the burned boat. She pulled on latex gloves that went up to her elbows. She had also thought to bring a sifter with her. Digging in to the ash, she put it through the sifter, finding nails and bottle caps.

  Going a little deeper, she felt something that had the shape of a tin can top, but seemed heavier. She grabbed it and pulled it out of the ash. Wiping it off, she saw that it was in the shape of a large coin.

  Any trace of fingerprints that might have been on the object would have burned off in the fire, so she felt comfortable walking down to the water and dipping the metal piece into the lake. When it was washed off, she could make out some writing on it—for bravery in duty. A military medal. It looked recent.

  She did not like this one bit. Why was everything pointing at Andrew?

  Andrew drove Amy out to his family’s farm, which was about fifteen miles out of Durand. Amy felt uncomfortable sitting next to him—as if he was driving her to his own funeral or something. If they knew each other better, maybe they could joke about it, but she still felt like she didn’t know Andrew that well. They hadn’t worked together long and they weren’t often partnered.

  They were silent for most of the drive, but then she decided she better say something. “You know we have to do this. Just to check it off the list. Claire’s real careful about stuff.”

  “I have no trouble with this search at all. I’ve got nothing to hide. So let’s get it over with. I just want to do my job, and the sooner this is behind me the better. Tammy Lee’s caused me enough trouble.”

  “I didn’t know Tammy Lee hardly at all.”

  “Yeah, she was all right. For high school. But once I got out into the world, she didn’t really want to know anything about what I was doing. She’d talk about friends from school, as if I cared. It was just such a disconnect from where I was—in a frigging war zone.”

  “I bet.” Amy had always been curious about what he had done in Afghanistan. “How long were you over there?”

  “Nearly four years.”

  “What was it like?”

  He was quiet for a few moments. “Like it wasn’t even on the same planet as here. I felt like we were on Mars or something. Astronauts in this weird land. The aliens not only didn’t speak our language, but hated us, wouldn’t look at us. Except for going out on forays we were pretty much confined to our little fortress. Life there was this odd mixture of boredom and fear.”

  They turned down the long driveway to the farm. Amy could see an old John Deere tractor parked next to the garage.

  “That old tractor run?” she asked.

  “Oh, yeah. Dad doesn’t use it much any more, but he won’t give up on it. It’s a
real workhorse.”

  They parked close to the house, and Andrew pointed to a Jeep. “It’s open. Here’s the keys.”

  Amy took them.

  “I’m going in. Come in and have a cup of coffee when you’re done.” He turned to walk toward the house, then turned back. “Are you going to check for fingerprints?” he asked.

  “Should I?” Amy hadn’t planned on that unless she found something incriminating.

  “Well, Tammy Lee was in my car once.”

  “Oh?” Amy waited.

  “Yeah, I gave her a lift home from the bar a while ago. No big deal.”

  “You tell Claire?”

  “I didn’t think it was that important. Nothing happened. I mean, I just drove her home. You’re not going to find anything else, but I thought you should know.”

  “Yeah, I’ll come and get you when I’m done.” His admission left Amy feeling even more uneasy than she had driving out. She felt like he wasn’t telling them everything, and yet at the same time she couldn’t believe he would kill Tammy Lee. When he talked about her, there just wasn’t that much emotion in his voice. Hard to kill someone when you didn’t care about them, one way or another.

  Amy put on gloves and then opened the passenger side door. If Tammy Lee had been in the car, she might have left something around the seat. The vehicle was remarkably clean. A few gas receipts in the cup holder, car manual and a flashlight in the glove compartment, an orange peel under the passenger seat.

  She went around and checked both the driver’s side and the back seat. Again, not much. A windshield scraper for winter, a tire wrench tucked under the back seat, an empty bag of Fritos, a blanket folded on the back seat.

  Amy carefully picked up the blanket. It was a Biederlack blanket, made out of some kind of polar fleece material. She unfolded the blanket, but nothing fell out. It smelled clean. Not a bad idea to keep something like that in a vehicle, especially in winter. She could see that Andrew liked to be prepared. If he hadn’t been a Boy Scout, she’d be surprised.